


Avoidance

by ever_increasing_circles



Category: 8 Out of 10 Cats RPF, British Comedian RPF, Pointless RPF
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-06-25
Updated: 2012-06-25
Packaged: 2017-11-08 12:25:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,287
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/443170
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/ever_increasing_circles/pseuds/ever_increasing_circles
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It's not his responsibility, but Richard can't help but feel concerned all the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Avoidance

**Author's Note:**

> Apparently my reaction to scandal is to write fic about it SIGH I am a terrible person
> 
>  
> 
> Any similarity between the fictional versions of the people portrayed here and the actual people is purely coincidental. This is a work of fiction. This is not an attempt to defame the character of said person on the basis of libel, as the work is FICTIONAL (and NOT an intently false statement created with the express purpose of misleading others about the actual character of said person).

Some things blew over quickly. A drop in the ocean of the news media. Some things, however, didn't; Richard had a feeling - sinking, through his chest - that this would be one of them. Or perhaps it would, with all the will in the world, but certainly not before Thursday. Before the recording. Before the Thursday recording which was, after all, _today_. Not for quite some time, though: the day job came first, of course, then between this and that came Pointless, and before that he had to _get some sleep_ and _oh god_. Finding himself as yet unable to fulfil that particular point on the list he stared up at the ceiling, seeing little in the darkness of his bedroom. Being awake at that time was definitely not preferable, but he hardly dared look towards his clock to see what time it actually was.... _ah. Three in the morning_. Still enough time to sleep, just. Still enough time to try to get _some_ rest before facing the day.

He reached over to his phone at the bedside, checking it out of habit. No new messages. Unlikely for there to be any new ones since the last time he looked, not at _this_ time of the night. He tapped through to the conversation of a few hours ago, the light harsh against his eyes.

He'd thought, at first, to send something along the lines of " _We can cancel, if you like._ " It was an entirely _possible_ course of action, if nothing else; would cause a lot of last-minute inconvenience, but it was, nonetheless, something that could be done. If he rang through first thing. Perhaps they could pull off what Have I Got News For You did all those years ago, and pull in an emergency guest host - maybe ask Jon to do it? Something like that. Call in someone else. David Mitchell? Rob Brydon? Had anyone even heard from Angus, recently? ( _That_ would certainly be something.) This was the reflex, to try to reduce whatever collateral damage he personally could, but after having tapped out that message, he knew that it wouldn't be what Jimmy wanted. They _could_ cancel, but what message would _that_ send out? If one were feeling charitable, the recording could be looked at as an immediate chance for him to face up for his actions. If charity came in short supply? Much the same. _And he's a big boy now_ , Richard would tell himself. _He's up to fighting his own battles_.

That felt like scant relief at three in the morning, though. Jimmy likely could take care of himself, but that didn't stop Richard's thoughts devolving.

" _Still up for tomorrow? x_ " He'd hoped the tone would be evident in his words - no grave talk of cancellation but still _something_ , even if said with an unseen wink. Keeping it light-hearted. Acknowledging the situation without bringing down the weight of all judgement within a simple text message.

" _I don't have much choice, do I?_ " Richard had thought, again, about his initial message. Perhaps it was a choice, or maybe it was indeed no choice at all. Then, moments later, a follow-up message: " _It'll be ok. You don't have to worry about me, Richard._ "

" _It's sort of my job to worry about you, though._ "

" _That's a nice thought. Thank you. It's my own fault, though. I deserve whatever I get._ "

Richard couldn't deny that, but didn't know how words like that were meant to make him _not_ worry. He could see them debating themselves into a circle on the matter and so he hadn't replied, because what else could he say? He felt for a while afterwards that he probably should have replied, though. " _Take care! x_ " or something. Some sort of reassurance. And time passed, and Richard knew that any sane person with a job to attend to the following day would at least _try_ to make some effort at sleep, but he kept his eyes to his phone for just that bit longer all the same.

 

\--

 

Richard saw the statement Jimmy had put to Twitter on his way to Television Centre; he said nothing of the matter to anybody as he made his way inside, as he sat through wardrobe and makeup and Alexander seemed to be in a pleasant and upbeat sort of a mood, which was something. He turned his phone off, as per studio rules, and tried to put that aside just for the time being. Probably half the people in that studio didn't know he had anything to do with Jimmy Carr to begin with, let alone his individual problems. Alexander was not in that half, but perhaps he hadn't heard? Hadn't read the papers? Hadn't watched the news that morning? (Each hope seemed more unlikely than the last.)

The recording went by pleasantly enough, but he could see the look in Alexander's eyes and that small, hopeful smile on his lips - there wasn't anything wrong in playing up banter for the audience, far from it, but the primary thing that said back to Richard was that Alexander _knew_. If he didn't know, then he had at least noticed Richard's preoccupied manner, and that was almost as bad. 8 Out of 10 Cats came later, _later_ , so he had to concentrate on this, for now. He gave back to Alexander's quips as best he could, trying not to be such an open book. Also knowing that if there were only one person in that studio able to read him, that person would always be Alexander.

They chatted inconsequentially through the breaks, something which Richard appreciated. Then came the mid-recording break, back to the green room (before wardrobe and makeup and--). Alexander waited for Richard to sit down before raising the inevitable subject, "So... I believe you have another recording later on today, then?"

Richard looked at Alexander for a moment before the pieces fell into place (all of them, neatly). "--... Yes. Yes I do." He rubbed his hands together, "Can't wait...!" (Alexander just stared back at him, that serious sort of concern something that he didn't quite feel up to dealing with so early in the day.) "What?"

"Have you spoken to Jimmy yet?"

Knowing he couldn't avoid this conversation, Richard gave a slight sigh. "Not yet today. Threw a few messages in his direction last night, not that that really got me anywhere. He wants to do the show though, so, you know, what can I do? Just got to ride it out, I suppose. Eye of the storm at the moment, have to see how it goes later." (Still _that look_.) "Smile, Xander...! This is the _fun_ part of my day--!"

"Mm."

"Come on, out with it. What's up?"

Alexander looked surprised for a moment, as if not expecting that question to be directed towards _him_ in this exchange. "Oh, I--... well, it's nothing, really. I mean, it's not _nothing_ , it's just--... well, tonight's going to be difficult for you. I worry about you, that's all."

Richard almost laughed, "Me?! I appreciate the sentiment but honestly, I'm not the one to worry about."

"Obviously. It still affects you though, doesn't it? I can see it all over you."

"What, really? Damn, I thought that was what we had makeup for."

" _Richard_. ...Maybe I'm not expressing myself too well. What I'm trying to _say_ is, you have a friend in trouble; that troubles you. You're my friend and I see you troubled, therefore I too am troubled--"

"It's a big old vicious circle of inconvenience, isn't it? Look, Xander, honestly. It'll be fine. All of this, all of--... all of that, it's a Channel 4 problem. We're BBC right now. Okay?"

"... I didn't say anything about being inconvenienced."

For a moment Richard felt that there was some discussion to be had over the meaning of the word 'troubled', but looked to Alexander again and knew it not worth it. On the most basic of levels, Alexander was concerned for him; the most courteous thing, he knew, would be simply to accept that. He hardly felt as if he had any right to do so, but knew how definite Alexander could be when it came to sincerity. He leant back against the green room sofa, closing his eyes and resting his hands behind his head. "... Thanks, Xander. Really. I just--... yeah, I don't know how things are going to go tonight, but I'm the last one to worry about in this situation. I'm not the one in the line of fire, here. But yeah, all that my-friend's-friend-is-my-enemy's-enemy or whatever it is. I do appreciate it."

"' _The enemy of my enemy is my friend_ '."

"Yeah, that one." He opened then narrowed his eyes for a moment, thinking it over. "... Nevermind. My point is - worse things have happened, probably. I mean, worse things have definitely happened, this isn't war or a natural disaster or anything, but--... in our specific context, worse things have happened."

"I don't really need to say the first name that comes to mind when one thinks of 'disgraced panel show hosts', do I...?"

Again, another discussion they didn't need to have - or, looking at the clock on the wall, that they didn't have _time_ to have. How far had they come in the last ten years? There was certainly some difference in levels of flagship importance between the programmes, as well as that between the personalities involved - not that Richard could cite much empirical experience in terms of _that_ scandal, but... there was that little voice in the back of his head saying _it won't be that bad_. ... _Will it...?_ If this had been any sort of an argument, then Richard might almost have been tempted to suggest that the Deayton situation had landed Alexander in good stead if nothing else, but he knew that he wouldn't be thanked for that line of thought. And this wasn't an argument, and _it wouldn't be that bad_. The media always leapt on sexual scandal, after all. Good old reliable sleaze, _sex sells_.

"No, I think we're on the same page there alright." Richard stood up from the sofa, his tone brisk. "We should probably get back soon, shouldn't we? They'll be calling us through at any moment."

Alexander kept watching Richard for a few moments longer. "I just wish I had more to say, that's all. ...I wouldn't want to say much more without speaking to Jimmy first. I could ask what you think, but I know how it is - it doesn't matter what you think, what I think, what any of us think. You've still got a job to do, and that's... that's all you _can_ do. Being called out by the Prime Minister on moral grounds is certainly something, but... before anything, he's a friend, and he's in trouble. And he's got you on his side." A smile. "If it were me, I think that fact alone would make me feel better, even if only by that much. ...I trust your judgement." He stood up from the sofa himself, looking towards the door but pausing before moving towards it. "Are you doing anything at the weekend?"

"Not that I can think of. Why do you ask?"

"Well, I just thought that tomorrow you'll be busy, but that you could certainly go for a drink after that..."

"Sounds nice. Pencil me in."

"Ask Jimmy if he wants to come, too. He--"

"--'s probably touring that night--"

"... Oh, you're right. _Well_ , look. You and I go somewhere then, you ask him from me where he wants to go after that." He walked towards the door and held it open for Richard, "... We can go for a meal together or something, I don't know. Something. Let me know."

Richard walked through to the outer corridor, walking alongside Alexander as they went and wondering, in that heavy sort of a way, if he should feel thankful or guilty (or both). _Worrying about friends through several degrees of friendship?... How noble_. He felt there was something to be said for having Alexander on his side too, but then they were at the studio doors again, and the moment was lost.

 

\--

 

Richard stood on the inside of Jon's dressing-room, leant back against the door. Before walking in, he'd had the feeling that this might even be the most difficult part of the night and now that he was here, with Jon sat in front of him, he could do little else but underline that statement in his mind.

"I'm not saying that you should go easy on him, that's not--"

"But you are though, aren't you? Because Sean's not going to hold back, because we both know what Sean's like, because we _all_ know what Sean's like, so Jon's team should be the soft-and-cuddly option? Well, I'm sorry you can't split us up into nice neat little black-and-white boxes. Devil on one side of him, angel on the other. I think Jimmy's going to be finding an awful lot of devils out there in the studio tonight - and beyond, and good on them. That's as it should be."

Richard bit the inside of his lip as Jon spoke, knowing that he could only perform the most cursory effort of damage limitation here. "I'm not going to ask you to do anything, Jon."

"But?"

"But what? It's not up to me to tell you what to say or do, you're your own person. I just thought--..." ( _you'd be like this, but hoped that you wouldn't_.) "... I just thought I'd come by and see how you were, that's all." (He could tell that Jon didn't believe him, but seemed diplomatic enough in the present moment to at least pretend that he did.)

"Right. Good. Well, thanks. I'm probably not the one you should be speaking to, though."

"I'll be seeing him next, don't worry." Richard let himself out of the room, offering Jon a half-smile as he went. "Try and have fun tonight, Jon."

"Oh, I will. I most certainly will."

 

\--

 

"I fear we may have lost Jon."

Jimmy gave a sarcastic smile as reaction to Richard's words, "Don't beat around the bush here Osman, there's no 'we' about this. _Me. I_." He softened somewhat, regret etched into him. "Wouldn't expect anything less of him, to be quite honest. Good upstanding young lad, our Jon."

Richard took the other chair in the room, leaning his elbow on the nearby counter. "I tried talking to him..."

"I thought you might."

"Didn't get anywhere, though."

"... Again, I thought you might. Might not? ...Whatever. No, if Jon feels strongly about something, he's not going to try to hide it. Just so happens that I'm that thing, this week. Once he's locked himself into something? That's probably that, I'm afraid." He shrugged slightly. "A sad consequence."

"I'd like to say 'I'm sure he'll come round', but..."

"We'll just have to see, won't we? You never hear him mention Russell Howard, do you... and god _alone_ only knows what happened between those two, but I suspect that's the way Jon likes to keep it. Seems quite happy to bear a grudge, that one." Jimmy checked his wristwatch before patting his knees, as if about to stand up. "Time to go yet? All this waiting around, it's killing me. Rather just get out there, and--"

"--get it over with?"

Jimmy gave a tense little nod, "... Yeah."

Richard checked his own watch, "Not time yet, I'm afraid." He hesitated for a moment, before looking back up at Jimmy. "Here's a thing. Remember the football stickers, last week?"

"I saw you back there with them, getting your spares out. Showing each other your shinies."

A small laugh, "... Right. Well, here." Richard produced one from his inside jacket pocket, holding it across for Jimmy to take. He looked at it with a slight degree of confusion as Richard spoke, "... I pulled some strings. Maybe it's videogame logic, handing over the key item for favourable results in your quest, but--... there you go. Can't hurt, can it? A bit of a peace offering."

"Should I give it to him now, or...?"

"I'd wait until the cameras are rolling. Like those people who propose in front of a crowd of people. ...Well, maybe not _exactly_ like that, but you know what I mean."

Jimmy pocketed the sticker, "Thanks, Richard. I'll keep it in mind."

Silence fell between them for a moment, as Richard wondered if there was anything more to be said. As much as he might have liked, he knew he couldn't stay in Jimmy's dressing room until the call came that the studio was ready - there were still other things to check and make sure of, and staying at the dressing rooms double-checking the host was not one of them. Jimmy still had time to sit and wait, but Richard didn't. He stood up, "Wish I could stay here longer, but I've got things to wrap up before we're ready to go... but you know where I am, right? Once you're out there."

"On the other side of the audience, raised up behind glass and locked doors?"

Richard faltered, unable to deny the truth in that statement. "... There is that. But I'll be watching you, from up there."

"As will a lot of people, I suspect." Jimmy smiled, almost without warning; Richard couldn't deny the slight relief he felt to see that. "Anyway, talking about it like that - 'from up there', can you even hear yourself?! That's fairly morbid, Richard. Just say you'll be keeping an eye on me from behind-the-scenes or something, that's enough for me."

"Well... okay then, that's what I'll be doing. And I will be doing that, so don't forget...!" He went over to the door, but turned back towards Jimmy once more before opening it. "... You're okay for now, though?"

"Ask me that again in a couple of hours. Then we'll see."

 

\--

 

Richard stood behind the manned desks in the gallery, looking out towards the studio. Not long to go, now; the audience members were seated and being suitably warmed up, and Richard kept his ear on the ongoing discussions around him. Lighting was being double-checked, the cameras being moved into position, the contestants on their way from the green room, and Jimmy--. Richard held his coffee tightly in one hand; nothing had happened yet - and indeed, what was the worst that could happen on the set of a topical comedy panel show? Nonetheless, he couldn't shake the tension from his stance. _Nothing else to do but let it happen, now_.

Despite there being only minutes to go before the cameras rolled, Richard borrowed the headset to Jimmy's earpiece all the same. Just for a moment. _Just for this_.

"Jimmy, do you read me?"

" _I can hear you, if that's what you mean. This is new, isn't it? Will I have you in my ear all night?_ "

"I wish. No, I thought I'd just overstep some boundaries to be able to wish you luck, before you went out there. ...Good luck, Jimmy." The signal came from elsewhere in the gallery. "... You're on."

Richard handed back the headset, feeling like all he could do now was to step back from this and watch it play out. He liked the idea of retaining the headset, but knew that likely wouldn't be helpful - _try to keep this normal. Pretend like it's just another recording of a completely normal episode_ \--. He kept his eye on the studio floor, watching as Jimmy walked up to the set and- _there_ , in a moment, flashed a thumbs-up to his general direction. Richard smiled, despite himself; did anybody in the audience catch that? Maybe they'd think it some arrogant gesture. _Doesn't matter_ , Richard thought. _It's not for you_.


End file.
